Head Case
by LaylaBinx
Summary: AKA: Five Times Jensen Got Smacked Upside The Head With Something. You know you're interested! :p No slash, unless you squint, just silly stuff!


**Hey guys! Just some idea I felt like playing around with ^.- Hope you all like it! :D**

**I don't own anything, I'm just playing with them =p**

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OOOOO (1. Folder)

Clay had gotten used to Jensen's quirks since he joined their team a little over five months ago. He knew that Jensen had a tendency to wear ridiculously bright t-shirts when they weren't working, he named inanimate objects like his laptop (Stephanie) and all of their technical equipment, and he liked to talk. A lot. Jensen talked to everything and everyone; he talked to his fellow team mates even though it was obvious none of them were listening to him, he talked to his computer, the files he was responsible for hacking, his guns, he talked to everything.

The one quirk Clay hadn't picked up on yet was the fact that, aside from talking to his computer when he was hacking, Jensen liked to hack in nothing but a pair of boxers and socks.

They were camped out in some town in Arizona, close enough to a major city that they could get the supplies they needed but far enough so they stayed under the radar. Which more or less put them right on the outskirts of the desert. It was hot as hell, all the time, and the air conditioner in their apartment only liked to work half of the time. It didn't matter where they were either; it was hot in the shade, it was hot at night, hell, it was even hot inside the refrigerator (another thing that liked to stay cool only half the time). They only had a week left in this place but it was going to be the longest week in history.

Currently, Pooch and Roque were lounged outside in collapsible lawn chair, staring at the street and talking quietly. Roque was sharpening one of his knives (none of them were really sure how many he had, they just seemed to multiply as time went on) and Pooch was watching him from the corner of his eye, vaguely commenting on the fact that he didn't know where he'd pulled the knife from because they were both shirtless and Roque didn't have pockets. Cougar was a few feet away from them, leaning against the one tree in front of their apartment. His hat was pulled low, obscuring his eyes, and Clay couldn't tell if he was sleeping or watching. It didn't really matter either way, they didn't have anything else to do so a little down time wouldn't kill any of them.

He knew Jensen was inside, busily hacking away at his laptop. Clay had given him a list of names and companies earlier that morning and he was in charge of finding out both personal and finacial information from the list. The sooner they got their information, the sooner they could leave and "sooner" wasn't soon enough.

He walked into the living room, making a face when he realized that air conditioner had once again stopped and it wasn't any cooler inside than it was outside. The lights were turned off (a desperate attempt to cool the place down) and all the doors were closed. He knew Jensen was in the back room, the one he'd set up all of his equipment in, and if Clay guessed correctly, he was still in there.

Clay didn't bother to knock, he had no reason to, so instead he just pushed open the door and stepped into the dark room. And froze at what he saw.

Jensen had his back to him, eyes fixed on the glowing screen in front of him. He was shirtless (nothing he hadn't seen, hell, they'd all been shirtless for most of their stay down here) but he was also pantless, sporting nothing more than a pair of boxers with red and black hearts all over them and a pair of grey socks. Without turning, he waved with one hand over his shoulder. "Hey, Colonel." He grabbed a folder from the table beside him and held it up. "Got those names you wanted."

"Jensen." Clay said slowly trying to keep his voice as even as possible. "Where are your clothes?"

Jensen paused his furious typing to turn and face him. "Oh..." He said, looking down at himself like he hadn't realized he was nearly naked. "It was hot so I took them off." It was a simple enough explanation but simple wasn't going to cut it.

Clay sighed heavily, squeezing the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache that had suddenly sprung up behind his eyes. "Jensen, let me make this perfectly clear to you. If I ever catch you hacking in your underwear again, I'm going to take all of your equipment, your laptop, all of it, and put it in the washing machine and press the spin cylce. Do you understand?"

Jensen's eyes widened a bit behind his classes and he nodded quickly. "Y-Yes sir." He said, sitting up a bit straighter.

"Good." Clay said, nodding sharply and snagging the folder from his hands. "Now get back to work."

"Yes sir." Jensen wasted no time in turning back to his computer and resuming his work. It was probably just an excuse to avoid Clay's gaze but it was getting the job done.

As part of his final parting, Clay rolled the folder slightly and smacked it across the back of Jensen's head causing the younger man to jump in surprise. "Pants on soldier." He said as he walked out of the room, smirking a bit when he heard Jensen scramble out of his chair in search of a pair of jeans.

**OOOOO (2. Gun)**

As far as situations went, this one pretty much held the definition of "crappy." They were in a warehouse, Cougar wasn't sure where, and there were five heavily armed guards posted at various points around the room. He wasn't sure where Clay, Roque, Pooch were, they were probably still staked out outside of the compound, trying to figure out how to rescue he and Jensen without either of them ending up riddled with bullet holes.

He and Jensen had gone in about two hours earlier; Jensen needed access to the main frame within the central part of the building and there was no way Cougar was letting him go in by himself so he'd followed along to offer back up. Lord knows the kid couldn't hack and shoot a gun at the same time, hell, he barely remembered to bring his gun most of the time, let alone put it to any good use. Everything had been going fine until they were ambushed on the way out, hands tied behind their backs and tossed into one of the larger rooms of the compound, something that looked an awful lot like a shipping warehouse.

They could only buy their time for so long before the orders came to kill them instead of use them for information. Jensen was on his knees beside Cougar, his eyes focused on the guards in front of them. "How's it going with the rope?" He whispered from the corner of his mouth, not meeting Cougar's gaze. He knew the Sniper had slowly but surely been working on untying the knots behind his back and with one of them free, it would at least give them somewhat of a fighting chance.

"Shh..." Cougar breathed, both to keep Jensen quiet and to keep from breaking his concentration. He was almost done, he could feel the ropes loosening, and it would only take a few more minutes to get free.

"Okay...but I think you may need to hurry it up a bit, buddy. These guys look kinda antsy and it won't be too long before they start using us as target prac-"

He was cut off when one of the guards noticed him talking. "Hey!" He barked, striding over to them with long, exagerated steps. "No talking!"

Jensen grinned up at him. "Sorry, just trying to pass the time. You guys are terrible conversationalists, you know?"

The guard was in no mood for Jensen's jokes and proceeded to knock him in the gut with the butt of his gun. Jensen doubled over with a gasp and it was everything Cougar could do not to lunge at the man and rip his throat.

Jensen laughed breathlessly, a wince behind his smile. "Wow, that wasn't very nice. Is that any way to treat a guest?" He straightened a bit, looking the man in the eyes. "Keep that up and I might just have to file a complaint."

The gun came down again, catching him in the jaw and knocking him sideways. Cougar felt his fists clench tightly behind him, rope forgotten, and glared at the guard hatefully.

"You have something to say too, cowboy?" The guard growled, returned Cougar's glare in stride.

"Hah, good luck with that!" Jensen mumbled, sitting back up. There was a bruise already forming along his jawline and he spit blood casually. "Cougar barely says three words to anyone he doesn't like and I know he doesn't like you. The talking is my job." He grinned, blood staining his teeth pink.

"Jensen, ¡cállate!" Cougar hissed, trying to get the younger man to shut up and stop provoking the guard. Jensen met his eyes briefly and suddenly Cougar understood. He was taking the hits so Cougar wouldn't have to (fucking martyr that he was) and it was giving him more time to work with the ropes. If Cougar got knocked out, they're chance of escape dwindled to half. He knew Cougar could take down the guards without so much as blink and was ready to ensure that happened.

"You know, you seem like the kind of guy who had a lot of anger issues growing up." Jensen continued, spitting blood again. "Did you have daddy issues as a child? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love being knocked in the head as much as the next guy, but you have a lot of anger behind your hits. Like you're trying to compensate for something...let me ask you, how it going in the downstairs department?" The gun came down again, there was a sharp crack as it made contact with the side of Jensen's head, and the younger man slumped to the side, landing against Cougar's shoulder and not moving.

Cougar could feel the blood staining his shirt, trickling down his arm, just as the last rope gave way. Without giving it a second thought, he lashed out and grabbed the gun, now speckled with Jensen's blood, and turned it on the guard, firing twice. The other guards were so surprised by the sudden turn of events that Cougar had taken out three of them before they ever drew their weapons. The last one looked at him, wide-eyed, and Cougar fired again, completely oblivious to the fact that Clay and the others had just burst into the room with guns drawn.

He left the rest of it to them and turned his attention back to Jensen, crouching at the younger man's side and quickly untying the ropes. Jensen groaned slightly as his arms fell to his sides and Cougar looped an arm around his shoulders, helping him sit up. Blood was covering one side of his face, oozing steadily from a gash at his hair line. His glasses were speckled with blood and he was swaying unevenly (concussion no doubt) but he was smiling. "I knew that would work..." He mumbled groggily just as Pooch appeared on the other side of him and looped his arm across his shoulders as well. With his and Cougar's help, Jensen managed to stand and be half-dragged, half-carried out of the warehouse, leaving the very dead guards behind.

**OOOOO (3. Backpack)**

The jeep rolled to a stop in a small clearing, the wheels crushing roots and bushes beneath their weight. They were camped out in some jungle in Bolivia, a few miles east of the target's location. The man was big name, someone they had been personally assigned to, and they need to get a layout of the area before they moved in.

The jungle was dense everywhere they looked and it had been by sheer chance that they had found this clearing at all. It was close to a small river and enclosed enough so they didn't have to worry about anyone stumbling across them by accident. They would camp out here until Clay decided it was safe enough to move in, however long that would be.

Pooch jerked the back hatch of the jeep open, barely catching a small bag as it tried to tumble out of the back end. He dropped it to the ground, nudging it to the side with one foot, and went back to the remaining luggage. Roque breezed past him, grabbing an armful of bags and carrying them over to the most level part of the rive bank and dropping them unceremoniously to the ground. Clay came over next, followed by Jensen and Cougar, each one taking as much as they could and carrying it over to the pile. After a few minutes, the entire back end of the jeep was emptied out, all of their luggage laying strewn about the river bank. Satisfied with the location, Clay grabbed Cougar and the two of them walked off into the trees to secure the perimeter, leaving the others to start unpacking.

Pooch closed the back end and turned, nearly tripping over the edge of the back that had fallen out earlier. It was a backpack, black, brown and green camo, and it was heavy. He knew the bag belonged to Jensen, its what the younger man kept all of his hacking equipment in, and he lifted it off the ground. "Hey Jensen!" He called, tossing the bag to the computer tech just as he turned around.

Jensen, surprised by the bag flying toward him, didn't have time to react before it smacked him in the face, knocking him backwards. He would have fallen to the ground completely had Roque not been standing next to him and caught him by the arm.

"Shit!" Pooch cursed, rushing toward them. "God, Jensen! I'm sorry, I thought you'd catch it!"

The backback had fallen to the ground and Jensen was standing over it, one hand covering his face and the other clutching Roque's arm. "Ah...dude...I think you broke my glasses..." He muttered, moving his hand away to reveal not only a broken pair of glasses but a bloody nose as well.

"Shit man..." Pooch muttered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of napkins. He handed them to Jensen and watched as the younger man shoved them under his bleeding nose as Roque prodded at it gently to see if it was broken.

"Nothing broken but the glasses." He said after a second, taking the broken glasses from Jensen and tossing them to the ground.

"Oww..." Jensen muttered in response.

"Jesus, Jensen, I'm really sorry, man. I thought you were going to catch the bag...I didn't know it was gonna-"

Jensen waved him off with his hand, smiling beneath the bloody napkins. "Its cool, dude. Not like I haven't hit you in the face before."

Pooch didn't say anything; Jensen had punched him once when he was sleep walking but it wasn't even hard enough to leave a bruise let alone give him a bloody nose. "You gonna be okay?" He asked, keeping a careful eye on the younger man in case the hit was harder than he expected.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jensen assured him, moving his hand away from his nose and looking at the bloody napkins. "Do me a favor though. There's an extra pair of glasses in the top pocket of my duffle bag, could you get them for me? I can't see shit without them."

Pooch nodded hurriedly and dug around inside Jensen's duffle bag, finding the glasses and carefully sliding them onto the younger man's face. "Better?"

"Peachy." Jensen grinned, wincing just a bit.

"If I tell Jolene you beat up Jensen, she's gonna kick oyur ass." Roque smirked, nudging Jensen in the arm and walking over to the pile of bag to begin unpacking. It was a well-known fact that of all the team members (exluding her husband) Jolene babied Jensen the most. He was the youngest, the goofiest, and God knew he needed someone to look after him so anytime they visited her, she always hovered over him like a worried mother. If she found out Pooch had given him a bloody nose, there would be hell to pay.

"It was an accident!" Pooch insisted as Roque continued to go on about how maybe they should call her and ask about how to deal with a bloody nose.

By the time Clay and Cougar got back, Pooch and Roque were in the middle of a (mostly friendly) wrestling match and Jensen was holding a wad of blood napkins to his nose. Neither of them were really sure they wanted to know what had happened in the five minutes since they'd been gone.

**OOOOO (4. Soccer Ball)**

It felt odd to be back in the States and back with their families after being in hiding for so long. It felt odd but wonderful at the same time. It had taken almost no time at all to get back into the swing of normal life (well, as normal as it could be while they were still searching for Max). Pooch had taken to dad duty like a natural and Jensen was back to being the "most awesome uncle in the world" to his niece. Currently, they were all at Emily, Jensen's sister's house, bar-be-queuing and acting for all the world like a bunch of people who hadn't been screwed over by the government and given up for dead for five months. Neither Jolene nor Emily asked where Roque was, the silence told them everything they needed to know. What they'd lost with Roque, they'd gained with Aisha and she could definitely handle her own when it came to the wives and older sisters of her team mates.

She'd slipped out at some point and was in the back yard with Hannah, teaching her how to effectively steal the ball from her opponent and even take someone down with being fouled. Hannah was listening enthusiatically, carefully watching everything Aisha did and copying her movements precisely. She had just turned eight a few weeks before and Jensen had gotten her a new soccer ball, goals for the back yard, knee pads and everything else he could think of to fully equip her for her soccer matches. The goals had been set up on either side of the back yard, far enough away to where you could practice a shot from as many different angles as you could imagine but close enough to still get in practice with another person.

She was in the middle of giving Hannah a pointer in aiming for the goal when Jensen walked outside, watching quietly from the porch for a few minutes. Hannah noticed him first (either Aisha was intentionally ignoring him or he'd gotten better at his sneaking skills) and gave him a big grin. "Hi Uncle Jensen!" She greeted cheerfully, Aisha turning ever so slightly to see him as well.

"Hey, Hannah." He grinned back, stepping down on the stairs and walking into the yard a bit. "You guys having fun?"

Hannah nodded excitedly. "Yeah! Aisha showed me how to take someone down at the knee without getting caught earlier." Aisha, for her part, smirked in Jensen's general direction.

"That's...awesome...?" Jensen smiled uncertainly and nodded to Aisha. He trusted her well enough now, she'd saved their asses at the docks after all, but he was still a bit terrified of her. Being shot by a chick that could dismantle a gun in her sleep tended to have that affect on people. "She's being nice to you though, right? Cause I can beat her up if not." He teased with a wink.

"You can try." There was a tone of playful challenge in the older woman's voice. More challenge, less playful.

Hannah just giggled. "No, she's being nice."

"Good." Jensen laughed, turning back toward the house. "You guys should come inside soon, dinner is almost ready." He was about to the top of the stairs before he called over his shoulder. "Oh Hannah, get Aisha to give you some pointers on kicking. Clay told me that she has a wicked roundhouse, especially in the bed-"

He never got a chance to finish as a soccer ball came out of nowhere and pegged him in the back of the head. He stumbled slightly, Hannah giggling into her hands behind him and Aisha suppressing her own fit of laughter. "Yeah, I'm just going to go back inside now...soccer is a pretty contact heavy sport after all..."

**OOOOO (5. Cougar)**

*smack*

"Ow!" Jensen winced and rubbed the side of his head where Cougar had just hit him. "What was that for?"

The Sniper didn't answer, sitting back in his chair and eyeing Jensen carefully beneath the brim of his hat.

"Jeez, Cougs...I've been conscious for a grand total of five minutes and you're already hitting me? Not a very nice way for someone to wake up..." Jensen grumbled, wincing and sitting up a bit straighter. The bandages around his stomach and chest were tight, the stitches pulling painfully as he moved. He hurt all over, bruises and scrapes covering his entire body, and he was pretty sure there were parts of him bruised that had never been bruised before. Whatever painkiller they'd had him on earlier had probably already worn off already because he could feel everything. There was an IV stuck in one hand and several wires leading beneath his shirt and connecting him to the various machines above his bed.

Cougar was next to him, arms crossed over his chest, an unreadable expression on his face. Clay had left before Jensen had woken up, dragging Cougar as they were jostled out of the room as visting hours ended. Pooch and Aisha were in the waiting room, trying to keep Jolene and Emily from losing it completely and pushing their way past security to get back into Jensen's room. While they were taking care of all of that, Cougar had easily slipped away from them and made his way back to the room, slipping past both the nurses and the doctors and disappearing back into Jensen's room. The blond had regained consciousness ten minutes after he got there.

"You're an idiot." Cougar growled when Jensen looked over at him, bruises and split lip covering his face.

"Wow, someone is grouchy today..." Jensen mumbled in response, gritting his teeth as he sat up a bit more. "Did someone try to take your hat again?"

"Jensen." The word came out much sharper than he meant it to and Jensen stopped abruptly, looking at Cougar. The Sniper sighed, scrubbing at his face with one hand. "Do you have any idea why I'm mad...?" He asked, looking at the hacker carefully.

Jensen was silent for a second (a feat in and of itself) before he nodded slightly. "I know...I'm sorry..." He answered quietly, remembering the events leading up to the hospital bed all to clearly. "But trust me, getting stabbed and thrown out of a car was not part of the plan...shit, had I known there were still guys in the back of that van I never would have-"

"You almost died." Cougar cut him off, his voice soft but sharp. "When I found you I-" He stopped, shaking his head slowly. For the first time, Jensen noticed the dried blood on Cougar's dark jacket, recognizing it as his own. "-and there was blood everywhere." The words brought him out of his reverie and he looked up to meet the Sniper's gaze.

"I'm sorry Cougs..." Jensen muttered quietly, shaking his head a bit. "I know it was a stupid move...really stupid...and painful." He winced as if to add emphasis to his thought process. "It won't happen again..."

The older man was silent for a second, his dark eyes never leaving the blonde's bruised face. Finally, he leaned forward, taking the hand that didn't have an IV sticking out of it, and squeezing gently. "I can't lose you..." He muttered, lowering his head and resting his chin on Jensen's hand. It was a small gesture but one that held more meaning than anyone realized.

"I know..." Jensen said, reaching out with his other hand, ignoring the way the IV pulled against his skin, and resting it on Cougar's arm. "You don't have to worry...you won't lose me." There was nothing more to be said and a warm, comforting silence fell between them.

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**AWWWW! :D Hope y'all liked it! **


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